Eye of the Witch (9 page)

He smiled smugly. “He is amazing, isn’t he?”

“
Spinelli, where did you get all that information?”

He turned the paper over and showed us. “She has a page on Blog-Hog.”

“
She posted that information about herself?”

“
Yeah, well, the personal stuff about where she came from: occupation, hobbies, turn-ons and turn-offs. The stuff about her being rude, sassy and insensitive, I got from interviewing her friends at work.”

“
Her friends said those things?”

“
Go figure. You know, she really wasn’t that well liked. Her boss had good things to say about her, though. She was punctual, good-natured to customers, especially to the big tippers. She seemed to know who they were and always anticipated their needs. And her ability to read her coworkers proved uncanny. That’s the reason everyone else hated her. Despite what they said to her face, she always knew what they really thought about her.”

Carlos and I sat down. “Speaking of coworkers, you didn’t happen to talk to Courtney, did you?”

“
Courtney Lusk?”

“
Is there another Courtney there?”

“
No.”

“
Then yes.”

He snapped his head back and smiled suspiciously. “How do you know her?”

“
We talked to her,” said Carlos. “Only she wasn’t’ so forthcoming with information about Anna with us. Did you tell her who you were?”

“
No, I told her Anna owed me money. She couldn’t wait to tell me she was dead.”

I turned to Carlos. “Were we talking to the same girl?”

“
It’s the generation gap,” he said. “Kids today, they’re on the same skiff.”

“
What else did she tell you?”

Spinelli rolled his eyes. “Ho, boy, plenty. She told me she was dating Ricardo.”

“
Courtney or Anna?”

“
Both. Apparently that’s the major rivalry between the two girls. Rivera’s been dating Courtney and Anna on and off for as long as the two have been working there. He gets with one, grows tired of her after a while and then goes back to the other. In-between, he works on the rest of the girls in the waitress pool. He’s got them lined up like a softball roster.”

“
What a player,” I said. “I don’t believe the guy. What does he do when he reaches the bottom of the batting order, start at the top again?”

“
Not if Courtney gets things her way. That girl has her sites locked in tight. She told me she fully expects to get back with Rivera for good now that Anna is out of the way.”

“
She told you that?”

“
Yup.”

“
And she used the phrase, ‘Out of the way’? Carlos, are you listening to this?”

“
I told you, Tony, it’s the generation thing. Young people tell other young people everything.”

I laughed. “Well, if that’s the case then why don’t older folks tell other old folks everything?”

“
Experience.”

“
Experience? Or paranoia?”

He threw his hands up. “Pick your poison.”

I turned to Spinelli. “What did you find out about her suicide?”

“
The medical examiner hasn’t filed his final report yet, but I know a girl in his office: Theresa. What she said and what I confirmed independently is that Anna went to work the day of her suicide, but only worked a half-shift. Coworkers tell me she was very excited about going straight to the car dealership to put a down payment on a new car, which she did. I verified that at the dealer’s. Later that afternoon, she confirmed an appointment with her dentist, picked up her dry-cleaning and stopped at the ATM for some cash. There’s a few hours where I couldn’t verify her activities, but—and this is from the coroner’s upcoming report—around eight o’clock that evening, she prepared a hot bath, climbed into it, still in her nightgown, and then slit her wrists. She bled to death within minutes.”

I looked at Carlos. His face drew long and blank. “What do you make of that?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Sounds to me like up to eight o’clock this was definitely not a girl planning on killing herself.”

“
I agree.”

“
Was there no signs of foul play?”

Spinelli pulled a small notepad from his shirt pocket. I noticed it looked identical to the one Carlos carried. He flipped the first page open and read the name, “Ida Reynolds.”

“
Ida who?”

“
That’s who noticed it.”

“
Noticed what?”

“
Water pouring out of her ceiling from the apartment above hers.”

“
Anna still had the bath running?”

“
Yes. So, Ida called the landlord, who used his key to enter the apartment and….”

“
And they found Anna in the tub.”

“
That’s it. No signs of foul play, forced entry, struggle—nothing.”

“
It doesn’t make sense.”

“
Nothing about this case makes sense,” said Carlos. “That’s why I asked you here.”

I felt myself shrinking back in my chair. “Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m not sure we’ll ever put the pieces of this one together.” I turned to Spinelli. “Nice work, kid.”

“
Thanks.”

“
Got anything else?”

“
Just that you asked me to work on getting that videotape.”

“
From Dean’s office camera.”

“
Right, so I located a copy at the coroner’s office. Again, my girl Theresa is working on getting it sent up.”

“
How long will that take?”

“
It shouldn’t take—”

“
Spinelli!”

We all turned at the same time. A uniformed officer from downstairs hailed us from the hall. Spinelli waved him into the work area. “Bruce. Hey! Let me introduce you.”

No need,” he said, smiling. “I know Detective Rodriquez.” He put his hand out and they shook. “And Detective Marcella, how are you? I thought you retired to Florida.”

“
Officer Bruce Burke,” I said, smiling. I stood and gave him a hug, remembering the circumstances surrounding our last meeting. “I’m fine, and I did,” I said. “I came back to see if Rodriquez would take me fishing at his cottage. How’s things with you?”

“
Better.”

“
The wife and kids?”

“
All fine. Thanks.”

We stood a moment longer, lost in an awkward silence. Then he mentioned the one damn thing I didn’t want anyone to mention as long as I was there.

“
Listen, about Doctor Lieberman,” he said. “I know we never caught his killer’s accomplices. I just wanted to say….”

“
No, don’t. It wasn’t your fault.”

“
But I left my post that night. I should have….”

“
You followed procedure. You radioed in; you received permission to terminate your watch. You did everything you could. I don’t want to hear another thing about it.” I looked down and noticed him carrying a large manila envelope. “What do you have there?”

He looked at the envelope and then at Spinelli. “A courier from the Coroner’s office left this downstairs for you.”

“
The tape!” Spinelli said. “Thanks.” He took the envelope and tore into it like a kid on Christmas morning. “Yes! It’s the Dean tape. All right!”

“
Bridget Dean?” Burke asked.

“
Yes,” I said. “You know anything about the case?”

He scoffed openly. “Just that I don’t think it was suicide.”

We three exchanged glances before turning our curiosity back to Burke. “Why do you say that?”

“
Well, forget that it was one of three suicides in as many weeks. That alone is strange. But everyone knows how badly that guy, Rivera, wanted the promotion that she got.”

I agreed, adding, “That’s why we have the tape. We want to take a closer look at it ourselves. What do you know about the other suicides?”

“
Ha! Funny you should ask. I know that Karen’s death occurred in precinct one’s jurisdiction, but as you know, we all work out of the same building now. The precincts are all going to melt back into one super-precinct soon anyway.”

“
I heard that,” I said, “but continue.”

“
My buddy, Mike, got the call: a woman jumper. He recognized the address as Karen’s. He phoned me on my cell and alerted me right away. We arrived at the scene together. I took one look at the woman. We found her face-down, but neither Mike nor I had any doubts.”

“
Did you go up into her apartment?”

“
Yes. About then two more units rolled up. They secured the scene while Mike and I went upstairs. A man identifying himself as the building super approached us. He recognized Karen’s body, too, and offered to let us into her apartment.”

“
The door was locked from the inside?”

“
Yes.”

“
So he unlocked it and you went inside.”

“
He unlocked it, but Karen had the security chain latched. I had to throw my shoulder into it—busted the doorjamb all to pieces.”

“
Guess that answers that,” said Carlos.

“
What?”

“
We were wondering whether someone could have broken in, forced Karen off the balcony and then locked the deadbolt behind him when he left. But if that chain was already in place when you arrived….”

“
Oh, it was on there, sturdy too. I got the bruises on my shoulder to prove it.”

“
Then there couldn’t have been anyone in the apartment when she jumped,” I said.

“
Not unless he went over the balcony after her.”

“
And that’s impossible,” Carlos added. “The kids out in the street who saw Karen jump would have seen someone climbing down behind her.”

“
Maybe the kids did it!” Spinelli offered. God love him for trying.

“
Yeah, and maybe Karen just jumped,” I said. “You know, cops do have one of the highest suicide rates in the country.” I reached out and shook Burke’s hand. “Thanks for the info, Bruce. It’s good seeing you. Give my regards to the misses, will you?” He promised he would, and then said his goodbyes to Carlos and Spinelli.

I had been on cases before that offered high hopes, but delivered dead ends. This one was different. This one offered no high hopes, only the dead ends. At the risk of setting ourselves up for another fall, I suggested we look at the videotape. Carlos told me about a room down the hall where they set up all the latest in audio-video technology. It was a good thing, too, because the videotape I expected wasn’t videotape at all. It was a memory cartridge, of sorts, with digital video imprints copied from a hard drive down at the Hartman, Pierce and Petruzelli building. The concept proved completely foreign to me. It’s not that I’m opposed to new technologies, but things like that make me glad I retired from detective work when I did. Carlos claims to understand it all, and probably does, somewhat, but it was Spinelli who wheeled total command over the complex high-tech equipment there.

“
They gave us a lot of footage,” he said. “But I’ve got a queue-up number here, so it’ll get us right to the target point in no time.”

I turned to Carlos. “Do you understand what he just said?”

He nodded and made a face designed to make me feel stupid. “It’s child’s play, Tony. Anyone can figure it out.”

“
Sure,” I said. I had
him
figured out. And I figured I’d see him pay for dinner before the night was through.

In a matter of seconds we were watching high resolution colored video of Bridget Dean working behind her desk in her office. The camera angle, as was the case in Rivera’s office, appeared just above the door, facing her desk. The time and date stamp in the corner indicated April, 7
^th
9: PM. No sound accompanied the video, but none was needed.

“
Look at her,” said Carlos. “Nine o’clock on a Friday evening. What a workaholic.”

“
The coroner’s report said she was working alone in the building that night,” Spinelli mentioned.

“
Unless she’s writing a suicide note,” I said, “she doesn’t appear to me like a woman about to commit suicide.”

Then a strange thing happened. The video image shuddered and went static, though it didn’t black out completely. It only lasted a couple of seconds, but at that instant Bridget Dean stopped and looked up from her work. She stared toward the door and appeared to mouth the words, ‘Who’s there?’ Carlos and I leaned in closer to the screen. Bridget put down her pen, opened a desk drawer and took out a gun. We watched, awestruck, as she came around the desk, the gun clearly pointing in front of her. She stepped hesitantly, almost tiptoeing. Before long, she had walked out of the camera’s view. Next, we saw a muzzle flash reflecting off the blackened window behind her desk, and then her body fell to the floor, just partially within camera view again.

Spinelli let the video run another thirty seconds or so before shutting it off. “That’s it,” he said, leaving us both speechless and numb. “She lay there another five hours before a cleaning crew came in and found her.”

“
There has to be more,” I said. “Bridget Dean definitely saw someone.”

“
Maybe so,” Spinelli replied. “There are more videos. Investigators have pored over hours of tapes from dozens of cameras, including the ones out in the hall and the offices adjacent to hers. Bridget Dean was alone in that building up until the moment she died.”